Oliver Queen couldn’t stop staring at one Clark Kent. A part of him still couldn’t believe they had found him. Months of searching and they had finally tracked him down. But even after he had freed Clark from that Russian prison camp, Ollie hadn’t felt safe until they were in his plane and up in the air.

A chuckle escaped his lips when Clark yawned, quickly covering his mouth and turning his head to be polite.

“You know,” he told him, “It’s going to be several hours before we get to the facility. Why don’t you get some sleep? There’s a bedroom in the plane.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer,” Clark said sheepishly. “I guess I am more tired than I thought.”

“I doubt you got much sleep at the prison camp so I don’t blame you,” Oliver remarked, as he led Clark to the bedroom.

Leaning against the door, he watched as Clark settled himself on the bed.

“Can I get you anything?” Ollie offered.

“No, I’m good,” Clark replied, shaking his head. He motioned for Ollie to sit on the bed and when Ollie had done that, he continued. “Thank you though … for everything. I don’t know if I said this yet, but thank you … for saving me too. For a minute there, I thought I was a dead man.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Clark,” Oliver said firmly. “You would’ve done the same for me. I’m just happy you’re okay.” Clark grinned and in that moment, Ollie knew that he would move heaven and earth for this man, if for nothing else but to see that smile.

The brunet must’ve seen something in his eyes, because his expression changed, becoming thoughtful. Then, much to Ollie’s shock, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Oliver’s own, pulling away after a moment, leaving the kiss short and sweet.

Truth be told, Oliver had dreamed about kissing Clark more than once but now that it had actually happened, he didn’t know what to do.

Clark stared at him, wide eyed, a mixture of worry and hope written all of his expression.